


Not One To Hold A Grudge

by TheLastWinchesterStanding



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Mirakuru Slade Wilson, Protective Oliver Queen, season 2 episode 18, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:00:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24410959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLastWinchesterStanding/pseuds/TheLastWinchesterStanding
Summary: "After all, I'm not one to hold a grudge." Slade quipped as he moved from the interrogation room.It was the dry wit in his former friend’s voice that pushed him over the edge. The familiar bitting sarcasm once used to encourage him now used to harm."What are you going to do, kid?""For my sister? You don't want to find out."**A What if Story where Oliver doesn't let Slade leave the precinct after he abducted Thea.**
Relationships: Moria Queen & Oliver Queen, Oliver Queen & Slade Wilson, Oliver Queen & Thea Queen, Quentin Lance & Oliver Queen
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	1. You think I'm going to just let you walk out of here?

**Author's Note:**

> Tied directly to Season 2 episode 18 - Deathstroke.   
> Slade has been delivered the SCPD by the Arrow for the abduction of Thea Queen. Begins at the end of the conversation Slade and Oliver have in the interogation room.

"After all, I'm not one to hold a grudge." Slade quipped as he moved from the interrogation room.

It was the dry wit in his former friend’s voice that pushed him over the edge. The familiar bitting sarcasm once used to encourage him now used to harm. Oliver slammed his hands on the desk in frustration. His face was a mask of pain before his jaw hardened and his eyes turned icy in determination. He would not let Slade leave without an answer. No matter what it took he'd get his answer. His secret wasn't worth his sister’s life. 

He was moving toward the door with a determined stride before he could finish the thought. 

"Mr Queen," Lieutenant Pike growled in warning, putting a hand on Oliver's chest as if to hold him back. Oliver's eyes were locked on the back of Slade's head as the man paused in his trek across the police station. 

"I'm going to have to ask you to calm down." The lieutenant was saying, not that Oliver was listening.

Oliver made to brush past the other man and when that didn't work, brought his elbow up frighteningly fast to knock the wind from the man. The lieutenant fell back as Oliver stalked past him. He turned the corner into the main area and felt as several pairs of eyes turned in his direction. His anger came off him in waves as he made his way forward.

"Oliver!" Moria cried as she moved as if to step toward her son. Oliver let his eyes flicker toward her just long enough to see Detective Lance holding her back with a hand to her shoulder. 

"You think I'm going to just let you walk out of here?" Oliver demanded of his former friend as he stalked closer. He stopped behind Slade even as the other man turned to face him. The two glared at each other mere inches apart.

"What are you going to do, kid?" Slade harshly asked, eyebrow quirking upward in a clear challenge. Oliver was more than willing to meet the unspoken goad.

"For my sister?" Oliver asked softly, and yet his voice carried in the deadly silence that had fallen in the precinct. "You don't want to find out."

"Okay! That's enough!" Detective Lance tried to diffuse the rapidly escalating situation. No longer was he willing to indulge his curiosity in seeing what Queen would do.

"Don't you forget who taught you how to fight, kid." Slade spat taking another step closer until they were nearly nose to nose. 

"I've learnt a hell of a lot more since then. You taught me to fight, they taught me how to hurt. _Tell me where my sister is, Slade_." Oliver threatened. 

"How to hurt?" Slade repeated with a laugh as he took a few steps back. "You think what happened in Hong Kong taught you everything you needed to know about hurting?" Slade asked lightly. " _You haven't begun to know the meaning of the word_!" He roared suddenly as his composure melted away. "But you will. I swore it then and I swear it now, when I'm done you will beg for me to kill you." He promised. The two glared at one another even as the room went deathly still at the last exclamation. 

"Fine!" Oliver snarled in disgust. "You want to hurt me? To kill me? Fine! Go ahead." Oliver offered opening his arms. "You go ahead, but leave my family out of it!" Oliver ordered. "They had nothing to do with this. My sister has done nothing wrong! Let her go. Kill _Me_!" Oliver shouted loudly.

Slade stepped closer eyeing the man before him in a speculative fashion.

"No!" Moria shrieked. "Oliver!" She cried as she was held back from going to her son’s side. Even as she was the police moved forward, hands on weapons that were seconds from being drawn.

"That's enough! Both of you, back off!" Detective Lance called. Slade and Oliver heard none of it. Lost in their own little bubble of hatred and anger. 

"I am." Slade remarked suddenly. "I _am_ killing you, Oliver. Just more slowly than you'd like." Slade explained almost casually. Oliver felt anger surge through him successfully washing away the dread burning his veins like acid. He acted without thinking. 

Oliver drew his arm back and punched Slade as hard as he could across the jaw. The bones in his hand gave a threatening creak, almost breaking on Slade's Mirakuru enforced face. Oliver took a step back to examine his opponent.

It was like a switch had been thrown in his former friend’s mind. Where before there was a cold anger tempered with control glinting in his one good eye, now all there was, was a fiery anger and the sadistic need to make Oliver hurt. 

Oliver braced himself even as Slade came at him. He ducked left from the first swing, crouching down to send his elbow into Slade's ribs as he spun low to come up behind Slade. He wasn't expecting Slade to recorrect so fast. Oliver didn't even see the spinning kick coming until it connected with his chest. 

The force of it sent him crashing back, through a desk breaking the wood under him. For a second he lay there completely winded before pulling himself up just in time to slide behind Slade as the man brought his fist down on the remains of the desk. 

There was shouting behind them but Oliver's whole world had zeroed down to the man before him. The same man that was once again coming toward him, two desk legs clasped in his strong hands.

Oliver crouched down under the first swing, letting the makeshift eskrima sticks pass over his head with a whistle. He used the opportunity to land another punch to the underside of Slade's jaw as he came back up from the crouch. Moving fast, Oliver pivoted on his heel delivering a kick to Slade's knee and on the same spin ripped one of the desk legs from Slade's hands. He fell to one knee as he came out of his spin just in time to bring the wooden leg up to block the swing Slade directed toward him, completely unfazed by Oliver's previous hits. 

The wood in Oliver's hand gave a groan from the strain. Oliver gritted his teeth as he tried to slide the desk legs and use Slade's strength against him. On an ordinary opponent the manoeuvre would no doubt work but Slade's sheer strength meant Oliver simply had no leverage. 

Inevitably, Oliver's piece of desk broke. He had just enough time to look up defiantly at Slade as the man whipped him hard across the head with the wood, breaking it and sending Oliver reeling back. He didn't have a chance to pick himself up off the floor as Slade landed three hard kicks to his ribs and chest that sent Oliver skidding across the floor and crashing into the opposite wall. The plaster broke around him leaving an impression of his body as he painfully dragged himself first to his knees and then shakily to his feet.

Blood was dripping down his face from where Slade had hit him. His back was screaming in agony and he was sure he had at least two cracked, if not broken, ribs - and one hell of a concussion if the way the world spun was any indication.

Muffled shots that were so loud they seemed quiet rang through the air as the police opened fire on Slade even as the man advanced toward Oliver holding what looked like a hunting knife. The bullets bounced off him as though they were pesky bugs and Slade spared them not one glance. 

Oliver brought his fist up and attempted an uppercut followed by an elbow to the face but Slade merely swatted the attack away. The Australian's hand closed around Oliver's throat as he slammed him back against the wall. The drywall crumbled around Oliver as the man gasped around the pressure on his throat. Bringing the knife up Slade pressed it against Oliver's stomach with just enough pressure to bring blood.

"Did you even try to save her?" Slade demanded in a harsh whisper, face mere inches from Oliver's reddening one. Slowly, he pressed the knife further into Oliver's skin - a superfical wound meant to hurt more than cause serious injury. 

Oliver glared at the man he once called friend. His hands were desperately trying to pry Slade's from his throat even knowing he'd never break the other man’s grip. 

"Did you?!" Slade roared pulling Oliver forward before slamming him back against the wall once, twice and a third time. The wall gave a groan before crumbling down around them leaving only splintered studs. It left Slade to hold Oliver in the air as the younger man glared at him with eyes that were turning glassy. 

"I- didn't- want," Oliver gasped out around the hand still on his throat. "Didn't choose- 'm sorry-" Oliver added. Slade snarled disgustedly at the younger man. 

"Sorry doesn't bring her back!" Slade growled before throwing Oliver down to crumple in a heap by his feet. "You did not deserve her." Slade spat before turning to walk away. 

Only to be stopped by a hand hooked around his ankle. Looking down Slade snarled at Oliver as the man struggled to his knees before slowly, _slowly,_ rising to his feet on what had to be pure stubbornness. 

"We're not done." Oliver declared despite his wrecked voice. He threw a sloppy punch Slade's way that the other man easily dodged. Oliver went stumbling forward with the momentum of his swing and almost fell again before catching himself. 

"You're impatient, kid. Always have been." Slade said with a half-smile that was nothing but cruel, even as he stowed his knife away. The calculated fury had once more returned to his eye as he caught Oliver's next sloppy punch. He used Oliver’s arm to spin him around, back facing Slade as he yanked the younger man’s arm up until there was a tight tension in the limb. 

Oliver cried out as he raised himself to his toes in an attempt to relieve the pressure.

"I told you already. You cannot die until you know true misery." Slade hissed into the kid’s ear. Seconds later he yanked Oliver’s arm up again, taking immense pleasure in the dull pop his shoulder gave as it dislocated. Oliver cried out again, his face countering into pain.

Shoving him away from him, Slade watched as Oliver stumbled two steps forward before falling weakly to his knees. Oliver's arm hung uselessly at his side even as he swayed dizzily on his knees. A well placed kick between his shoulder blades sent him falling those last few inches to the floor where he lay still. 

"Any one of you try to follow me and I'll gut little Thea Queen." Slade declared to the gathered police force. With that the man turned on his heel and stomped his way from the room. The precinct seemed frozen at his exit, none quite believing what had just occurred. 

It was broken as Moria gave a strangled cry of her son’s name. She pulled herself free from the arms of the officer holding her. Running to Oliver's side she hovered unsure what to do. Oliver was still face down on the floor unmoving and she was too frightened to even think of moving him.

"Alright, someone call medics. We need units on Wilson - discretely!" Detective Lance ordered as he too went to the young man’s side. With great care, Quentin slowly rolled Oliver onto his back. Oliver’s face was still scrunched in pain as his eyes stared hazily at the ceiling. Something about the look in the man’s eyes had Quentin sending Moria a quick shake of his head when the woman went to touch her son. 

If he didn't know better Quentin would think the Queen scion, the man he had hated so unconditionally, wasn't mentally in the room with them- despite open eyes.

And right he was.

Oliver was, in his mind, reliving one of the worse nights of his life. The night they took the freighter. He flinched back as he remembered how Slade had come at him, throwing him around like a rag doll. How the man had held him to the ceiling by his throat. How Oliver had barely escaped to find Sarah and the others. He vividly remembered jumping overboard only to feel a vice like grip on his ankles that sent him slamming into the side of the ship. And then he was airborne as Slade sent him flying back. He'd scrambled back dazedly as his once friend stalked toward him. 

Oliver came back to himself almost wishing he hadn’t when he felt the extraordinary pain he was in. His still dislocated shoulder sent spikes of pain throughout his left side, while his ribs and head ached something terribly. Even so Oliver peeled himself into a sitting position ignoring the two people knelt before him on the floor. 

Sneaking a hand into his coat pocket Oliver pulled his phone out, dialling a familiar number. "Do you have him?" Oliver asked as soon as the line was connected. 

_"Oliver, man, I'm sorry-"_ Diggle began to say but Oliver had heard enough. In one of his more impulsive moves, Oliver brought back his good arm and flung his useless phone against the floor. 

"God dammit!" Oliver snarled as he brought his shaking hand to cover his aching eyes. He had failed to make Slade talk, and his team had failed to track him – they were no closer to finding Thea.

"Oliver?" His mother’s called weakly from beside him reminding Oliver he wasn't alone. In fact, as he raised his head it was to see most all of the precinct watching him. 

"Medics are on route, Queen." Quentin informed him briskly. Oliver turned to the man with his face already set resolute. 

"I don't have time for medics, Detective. My sister is still out there in the hands of that _maniac_." Oliver growled. With only slight hesitation, he pulled himself to his feet. Oliver swayed only momentarily before steadying himself again. 

“Hey, hold on now.” Detective Lance quickly urged. He moved to put himself in front of the wrecked looking man. “You’re going to answer some questions. You don’t actually think you can have a smack down like that in a police precinct and walk away?” He asked him seriously.

“I don’t think you understand.” Oliver growled. “Thea, _my little sister_ , is being held by a man that wants nothing more than to hurt my family.” Oliver snarled moving to put himself in the Detective’s face.

“And why is that, Queen, huh?” Quentin countered quickly. He did not allow himself to rise to the younger man’s baiting no matter how much he would have loved the opportunity only six months ago.

Oliver seemed to flinch back at his words. The Queen scion stumbled back a few steps before bringing his hand to his head dizzily.

“How exactly do you know Slade Wilson?” Quentin pressed. He needed to know everything he could if he was to find Thea. Especially since it appeared the eldest Queen Child was seconds from unconsciousness.

“He was,” Oliver mumbled lowly. “-he was on the island.” Oliver slurred drunkenly. And yeah, his head was definitely throbbing worse than before. Maybe it wouldn’t be quite so bad if the room would just stop spinning so damn fast.

“The island?” Quentin repeated. The Detective exchanged a glance with Moria Queen. The woman looked horrified at her son’s confession. Quentin supposed he would be too if it were one of his daughters trapped on an island with a psychopath like Wilson. Especially considering the beating they had just witnessed Oliver take. Had that been a glimpse of the hellish five years Oliver had endured?

“He was my friend.” Oliver slurred before shaking his head as if to clear it. “He’ll _kill_ Thea. I have to- have to go.” Oliver mumbled sounding only slightly more coherent. He shouldered his way past Quentin and made for the door.

“Oliver!” Moria called but her son did not stop.

Oliver Queen stormed from the building while everyone present merely watched like an audience. Motionless at the sheer horror of what they’d been told.


	2. Chapter 2

Five hours later when Thea Queen finally reappeared it was to the sighs of relief from the entire Starling City Police force. Most all, including Quentin himself, expected Oliver to swoop in almost immediately to go to his sister’s side. Instead Moria Queen came in alone to rush to her traumatised daughter’s side. Thea who had said not a word to anyone since walking into the police department, collapsed into her mother’s arms sobbing.

It wasn’t until hours later, Oliver arrived. He came in limping and leaning heavily against his body guard. The bruises from his fight with Slade Wilson were a livid purple against his neck and the side of his head. Blood still stained his face from where he clearly hadn’t bothered to wipe it away. Quentin found himself wincing in sympathy at seeing the angry cut and bruise stretching across the side of his face. No doubt under his clothes was an equally grim state.

“Oliver,” The bodyguard murmured when Queen came to a shuddering stop at seeing his sister safe in his mother’s arms. Oliver for his part, pushed away from his body guard to hurry to his sisters side. All injuries seemingly forgotten as he whisked her into his arms. Thea fell willingly against her brother, clutching him so tightly it had to hurt and yet Oliver made no sound of discomfort. It was in that moment Quentin truly began to understand just how much Oliver loved his little sister.

“It’s okay.” Oliver mumbled into his sister’s hair before pulling her away slightly to look over her. Thea’s eye’s widened considerably at seeing the awful state her brother was in. She didn’t however get a chance to question it as Oliver pulled her against him again. “He didn’t hurt you?” Oliver demanded, voice trembling slightly.

“N-no. No, Ollie-” Thea’s sobs echoed around the room. At the sound Oliver curled himself more fully around his sister, enveloping her completely in his arms.

“It’s alright. I’m not going to let him near you ever again.” Oliver promised softly. He pressed a kiss to his sister’s hair before raising his head to look over at his mother. Moria Queen had tears in her eyes as she watched her two children embrace. “Either of you.” Oliver added solemnly. The Queen scion pulled his sister gently from his arms, pushing her gently until she was once more secured in her mother’s arms. “Diggle’s going to look after you both. You’re going to do everything he tells you to, do you understand?” Oliver told both traumatised looking women.

“No Oliver. Where are you going?” Moria demanded her voice shaking terribly. Beside her Thea was firmly shaking her head at her brother.

“I’m going to do what I should have done five years ago.” Oliver explained even as he turned his back on his mother and sister. His jaw tightened as the two women called his name and yet Oliver didn’t turn back toward them. Quentin frowned as he watched Oliver move to his body guard. “Look after them.” Oliver told him solemnly, clasping his hand to the man’s shoulder.

“You know I will, man.” Diggle agreed just as seriously. “Oliver, don’t do this. You can’t win.” Diggle pleaded softly, although in the silence that had once again fallen over the precinct, his words carried.

Oliver clapped his hand on Diggle’s shoulder twice, a grim smile on his face. “I can’t lose.” Oliver corrected. He offered his body guard one last smile before walking toward the entrance.

Quentin had seen more than enough. If no one else was going to stop the man from walking to his death, Quentin would. He caught up with the younger man at the doors to the police precinct.

“Queen. Oliver!” Quentin called after him, clapping a hand on his shoulder to stop the man. Oliver turned to face him a politely interested expression on his battered face.

“You wanted something detective?” Oliver asked when Quentin did not immediately speak. Quentin removed his hand from the young man’s shoulder.

“Listen, I know you want to take Wilson on- god knows if he’d taken one of my girls I’d be hunting that bastard down myself.” Quentin trailed off awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. “Look, you clearly can’t take this guy down.” Quentin gestured toward Oliver’s less than healthy state. Oliver smile turned grim as he nodded his head in agreement.   
  


Quentin looked over his shoulder to ensure no one was in hearing range before taking a step closer to Queen and lowering his voice. “I know a guy that might be able to help-” Quentin began in his quieted tone, only to be interrupted as Oliver let out a humourless chuckle.

“No. I really don’t think you do.” Oliver told him with some twisted amusement in his voice.

“No, I do. Look, just, let me call him.” Quentin demanded as he pulled his arrow phone from his pocket, dialling the only speed dial. Oliver merely watched with something close to resignation on his face. The Detective threw an attempt at a comforting smile to the billionaire as he listened as the phone dialled before connecting.

It was then that the phone in Oliver’s pocket lit up and began to ring. Quentin looked from his phone to the one Oliver pulled from his pocket. He looked to the grim face of Oliver Queen and finally he understood.

“You’re-” Quentin trailed off unwilling to even voice the absurd notion. Although now that he thought about it, everything began to fit quite nicely together.

“Yeah.” Oliver confirmed breezily with a nod of his head. “Yeah.” He added much more subdued.

“And you’re telling me now _because_?” Quentin demanded.

“Because you and Diggle are right.” Oliver explained just as quietly as Quentin had previously spoken. “I can’t take him down. And you- you deserve the truth.” Oliver’s eyes were downcast as he spoke.

Silence hung between the two of them for a long minute before Oliver broke it by huffing in a breath. “Right, well, the city’s in your hands again Detective. No more vigilante running around and getting in your way.” Oliver said as he attempted a light, joking tone.

The Detective’s face hardened. He wasn’t remotely interested in joking. Not when they were talking about the kid walking to his death. “Don’t do this.” Quentin pleaded quietly. “Your family _need_ you. _This city needs you_.”

But Oliver was shaking his head, face gone grim. “You don’t understand what this man is capable of, Detective. He will kill everyone and anyone I have ever carried the vaguest fondness for. He will burn this city to the ground. And he will do this only to cause me pain.”

“But why?”

Oliver frowned sadly. “Because I did this to him. I turned him into this… this vengeance seeking madman.” He revealed. His voice was low and his tone defeated as he confessed one of his greatest sins. “He was my friend and I-. I couldn’t save him. But I can save him now. I’ll stop this before he becomes any more of a monster.”

The Detective stared at him wordlessly. Perhaps not knowing what to say in the face of such a confession. Deciding now was the time to make his exit, Oliver held out his hand to the man that he had always respected. Numbly, Quentin took the offered limb and shook.

“Don’t do this,” Quentin repeated, words a quiet plea.

Oliver Queen smiled. “Goodbye, Detective.” He repeated, releasing Quentin’s hand.

The Vigilante of Star City, the one who Quentin had up until recently hunted, walked from the police precinct – and Detective Lance watched him go.

One year later would see Oliver Queen being declared dead in abesntia for the second time.

They'd never find his body.

He'd never come back.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


End file.
